


Innocence Died Screaming

by ariannenymerosmartell (somethingmoo)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:10:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2510540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingmoo/pseuds/ariannenymerosmartell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He made her a promise. He didn't keep it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocence Died Screaming

Eddard feels the cold bite of steel at his neck, and his last thoughts are twofold: first for his wife, and children, and he prays to his gods that they will be safe. The second is to Brandon and Lyanna and he hopes that they will be there to welcome him home.

The next thing Eddard is aware of, is stepping out of a fog and into a building that looks much like Winterfell, and he thinks he has gotten his wish, because Brandon, Brandon, just as he remembered him tall and young and strong, is walking toward him.

And… and Brandon isn’t smiling, but pulling his right arm back, and Ned thinks Brandon is going to pull him into a hug, maybe curse him for getting himself killed in King’s Landing too, and steps forward eagerly. And Brandon, his big brother Brandon… punches him right in the face.

When he comes to, he hears a woman’s voice in the background, at first he cannot make out anything beyond that. His head hurts, and his vision swims, and his nose feels broken. There’s certainly blood on his face, and he absently wonders what hell is this, that even after death he can feel physical pain.

He takes a breath, and tries to focus, and the woman’s voice— a girl’s voice really— comes in clearer.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Brandon,” she says, but she sounds torn between consternation and amusement.  
“He failed you. I’m well within my rights to punch the little bastard in the nose,” he hears Brandon respond to the girl, who he knows, though he cannot see her, is Lyanna.

“He’s not a bastard,” she singsongs, but he can hear the edge of steel underneath her voice. “He treats bastards much differently than trueborn children, you know.”  
Brandon growls at that.

“Yet, he would have spared the Lannister bastards,” he spits angrily, and Ned knows he’s about to go into one of his rants but Lyanna interjects sharply.  
“They are children. Children should be loved and protected, and should know they’re loved.”

There’s a long pause as he let’s her words sink in and then—

“I know you’re awake, you know. Sit up, Ned. Face us like a man,” Lyanna says, and she sounds anxious, and weary, and amused… and angry.

Ned knows Lyanna’s voice better than anyone else. Knows every little tremble, every little hitch, that masks the raging river of wrath beneath. He knows when she is ready to unleash her rage, fiercer than any Northern winter. 

“If he remembers how to be one,” Brandon snorts, not bothering to hide his anger. “The Great Eddard Stark! Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and too afraid to his little wife’s ire to tell her to treat his blood properly.”

Ned winces at that, and sits up, gingerly. “This is about Jon?” he asks hoarsely.

Brandon stares at him. And stares. And then looks at Lyanna.

"Do you think I broke his brain when I hit him?" Brandon asks, a little to excitedly for Ned’s taste.

"No, I think he legitimately didn’t expect us to be upset," Lyanna says, cocking her head to one side and surveying Ned as though he were a particularly odd-looking insect. "He’s surprised!"

Brandon stares at him open-mouthed, before he bursts out laughing.

"Gods be good," he says. "He really thinks he did the best he could."

"I protected him, Lya," Ned begins, hesitantly, "No one knew the truth."

"Yes," she says, steely eyes flashing. "In that you did well. However, in asking you to protect him, I also remember asking you to raise him as though he were yours."

At that, Ned is at a loss for words as he recalls Lyanna, laying in her bloody bed, pleading with him in her hoarse whisper.

_Please, Ned. Protect him. Love him. He’s a Stark, Ned. My son. My only son. Raise him as one of your own. Promise me, Ned._

"I raised him along side my children," Ned says. "He trained with Robb, and played with—"

"And sat at servant’s tables, and was given inferior clothing, and toys, and was made to feel as though he were some unwanted burden," Lyanna finishes for him.

"I—" Ned starts, but Lyanna holds up her hand for silence.

"Rhaegar ripped apart his family, and the kingdom to make sure that child was born," she says quietly, through clenched teeth. "And I died so that my son would have life."

She takes a deep breath, her eyes suddenly filling with tears, and Brandon is there in an instant to take her into his arms. When she speaks again, her voice is muffled against Brandon’s chest, but Ned can make out her words.

"The whole time I lay there dying, I knew I was dying. So I prayed. I prayed for you, and for Benjen, and I prayed for Jon." She turns to face him then, grey eyes red-rimmed, but fierce. "I prayed that he might never feel trapped, might never feel the need to escape. I prayed that he would know only the fierce love I felt from Brandon and Benjen."

She smiles adoringly up at Brandon, and then frowns. “And from you,” she adds, as an afterthought.

"I’m last," Ned asks, quietly. He does not know why it hurts now, as much as it does. He’d known how Lyanna and Brandon loved each other, and how Benjen had been Lyanna’s little shadow, whilst he had been away in the Vale. But Lyanna looks unbearably sad, and more than a little guilty.

"I loved you so much, Ned," she says softly. "I hated that father sent you to the Vale, and that I saw so little of you, but the moments you came home and held me, and played with me I cherished so. And then you sold me to Robert Baratheon."

"Lya, I—" he interrupts, but Lyanna holds up her hand again.

"You put your friendship with him above your family. You knew what sort of man he was, and yet you would have had me marry him. And you arranged it so that Brandon didn’t know until it was too late."

Brandon glares at him at that. “She was little more than a child, and you sold her off like cattle.”

"Father," Ned begins, but this time it is Brandon whose voice booms over his own.

"And who put the idea in Father’s head?" Brandon shouts angrily, decades of words unsaid pouring out amongst the dead Stark siblings. "Who introduced the bloody whoremonger to our House?"  
Ned flinches at that, thinking of all of Robert’s bastards he had met in King’s Landing, and gets lost in his thoughts until Lyanna’s voice brings him back.

"I never forgave you for that," she says, and though her eyes are soft, her voice is like iron; hard and unyielding. "When I ran… I only sought to be free. I felt alone. Betrayed. Brandon had left me to marry, and you had given me away without a second thought, and Benjen… Benjen told me to run. Told me to be happy again. And so I went."  
She breaks off there, trying to steel herself for the next part. She pulls herself up straight and grips Brandon’s hand tightly.

"When I heard that Brandon and Father were killed, I hated you," she says simply. "Hated you for being alive when they were dead. Hated you for giving me to Robert, because if you hadn’t, I would have never…"

She trails off and takes a deep breath.

"I know I have more than my share of blame, but Ned, I hated you. And then you came to save me and it all went away, because I knew you would care for my son, I knew you would see that he was raised right, would be honorable and kind, and loved. I just wanted my son to be loved."

"He was," Ned insists weakly, but the steely anger in Brandon’s and Lyanna’s faces does not abate.

"So well loved," Brandon says scathingly, "that he decided to join the Night’s Watch because he felt he didn’t deserve a family because he was a lowly bastard."

"It was to keep him safe," Ned says.

"HE WAS HER SON," Brandon roars. "HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN LOVE AT EVERY TURN."

"He did!" Ned argues. "He was loved, he knew—"

"He knew nothing!" Lyanna screams. "He did not know the love of a mother, and believed his father kept him at arm’s length. He could have become a knight, could have wed, could have held a son in his arms."

Her chest is heaving, and her eyes are wet with tears, but still so proud, and still so fierce and still so angry.

"He should have," Lyanna adds, as an after thought. "He should have had all those things."

"I would have cared for him," Brandon says bitterly, glaring all the while at Ned. "I could have kept him safe. I would have made him a Stark."

"It would have brought dishonor upon Cat—" Ned starts, but Brandon scoffs, and Lyanna lets out a single sob, and then Lyanna cuts him off.

"I was your sister. Long before she was your wife, I was your sister. And you _promised me_ , Ned.”


End file.
